


The End(game)

by realsadboy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27726095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realsadboy/pseuds/realsadboy
Summary: The failings of Dean and Castiel, as time winds down towards Lucifer's return.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	The End(game)

_He meets him, like usual, at the edge of the trees. Some far off place where the hills eat the clouds, and the sky is the colour of the sea, and the tarmac cracks in the heat._

_And has he calls out, if we pause here to build the scene, he's got that run down look. That flu that aches in the skin and bones, that exhaustion that makes your joints pop. His arm's lifted up, and if he were a silhouette it would push up against the distant skyline. His arm is up, and he's peering off somewhere neither you nor I can quite make out. A clearing in the woods, maybe. He's alone. Like all people when they are alone, he's overtly aware of being jumped, or stabbed, or mauled in some way or other._

"Cas."

_The world holds its breath after that._

"Cas."

_It shudders and stops._

"Cas."

_The branches rustle. Imagine a closeup of Dean's face: his head swivels towards us in the shot, and his eyes are gloomed and doomed from trauma. They don't change through the scene._ _Castiel ambles out from some undefined place, seemingly peering at him against the glare. He doesn't seem all that bothered to say anything, and picks all the bark off a branch in his hands as they talk. Dean begins._

"What happened to the lookout?"

"Gone."

"Jesus Christ. Did they jump?"

"It was empty when I got there." _Castiel peeks up at him._

_Dean is too busy cursing the ground; maybe it knows where they went. His arm's down now, by the way. It's wrapped delicately around his waist, pinning some fresh damage in. It's a miracle there are any unbroken body parts left._

"Tell Ana to bring someone down."

"Gone."

"Her too? Fuck."

_Cas is funny now, and he smiles at the cursing. They are fucked, it's true. And if they're all fucked then they might as well sit down._

"Let's get out of here."

_So Castiel dutifully shuffles Dean through the clearing back to camp. It's dry and heartless._

"I've missed you", _he jokes._

_Dean stares straight ahead._

_

_A change of scenery. Dean is sat, propped up, in a hard wooden chair. There's an ugly bottle clutched in his hand, and he's breathing rather heavy._ _Castiel, lounging, smokes something across at him, half lidded in the smoky gloom. He seems as close to comfortable as he's going to get. Castiel begins._

"This is it, then," _he decides, and pours another drink._

"Hey, Cas, take it easy."

_Castiel giggles at him._

"Take it easy for Mr. Winchester. Put it down for Mr. Winchester."

"I get it."

"Pour one for Mr. Winchester while you're at it, Mr. Novak. Don't be rude to the guest, Mr Nova-"

"Enough."

_Beat. They look at each other, and we wait. The silence holds them captive now, though it doesn't feel that same old humdrum tense they're used to. Eventually, Cas hands him his drink. It's dogshit, frankly. It's dark and bitter, and there are things floating in it._

_If there was any heart in either of them, it would be here now. Beating, slowly, on the table. A steady rhythm they slip into, bleeding into the scene from its strained beginnings. They drink, it bleeds. They drink, and their shoes are soaked. It climbs up the bottom of their pants onto them._

"What would you like us to do?" _Cas slurs._

_He's wearing a halfhearted grin like he knows he's said something he shouldn't. He puffs, and sips, and waits._

_Dean has very little to say on the matter. Transfixed by an image on the bottle, he tears the rest of the label off._

"Is that it, then?"

_Beat._

"Adios, Mr Winchester. Adios, Mr Novak. It was nice having you. Please come again soon and remember to fly with... with... Airlines."

"We can't go back."

_Cas stutters back to him like he's on a camera delay:_

"I know that."

_Dean looks up at that. Some lingering sensation seems to break. The world has ended._

_Of course, he starts punching things._

_Anything goes.The walls. The bottles. The table._ _Cas._ _It was a misfire, really. A fist headed for a happily framed " Family weekend!" photo hanging by a nail._

_Cas takes it like a champ and Dean bolts._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :^) I'll update this relatively frequently as I get back into the swing of ficwriting. I'd love to know what you think about the formatting especially- did you like it, or was it distracting?


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